Trust
by HeatherStacieA
Summary: Lily grew up a slave, not knowing any other hobbits, not even knowing what she was. When she manages to escape her terrible life, she finds herself awake in The Shire with Frodo. Faced with her real heritage, she must adapt and learn to trust others aga
1. Lily and the Master

Hey guys, this is my first LOTR story so be kind to me! Please review and let me know what you think. This takes place before Frodo goes on this quest and if the story is popular enough (Hey I can dream!) then maybe I'll do a sequel of how they are after the quest. Anyways I'm not sure if this is actually going to be PG-13ish it might be more like PG but I thought I'd stick it up to PG-13 just in case! Okay on with the story!  
  
I remember a long time ago, my name was Lily. Not, "Hafling", not "You", but a real name. Lily. I haven't been called that in a long time, and now I'm starting to forget. Sometimes I wonder if I'm the only one of my kind left. It has been so long since I have seen any of my kind. So long that I can't recall if what I remember is delusion or just half truth. I think I remember parents. And then there is a fire. A horrible fire, and then screams. Then all I remember is the bars. The first home of my recent memories. His hollering interrupts the swirling thoughts of my past.  
  
"Halfilng! Get over here and refill my cup! I don't know what I give you all that bread for when you don't even do half the chores I ask of you!"  
  
I walk slowly over to my Master, limping on my right leg. I had twisted my ankle a few days ago when my Master shoved me. It still pained me greatly but I did not complain knowing what the consequences would be. I stare down at the table on which the meager breakfast sits. Sitting there is a chipped teapot faded in such a way that it's impossible to tell the color. There is also some sort of pattern, possibly flowers. The table itself is of simple oak wood with splinters still blatantly visible. My Master never had taken the time to sand it down. Everything in the small cabin is simple. There is one small unadorned window, the table with one small chair, a hearth and kettle to cook the meals upon. There had obviously never a woman's touch in my Master's home; no curtains or flowers, nothing pretty or feminine. The cabin consists of only two rooms and a cellar. The main room with table and hearth, and my Master's sleeping quarters. I sleep on the hard cold stone floor, and more often then not the cold, wet, dark cellar.  
  
My hands shake slightly as I pick up the cup, rough with use, and attempt to poor the dark bitter liquid my Master refers to as coffee. I am weak from hunger. There has been less to go by then usual these last few weeks because my Master had been in to town gambling away the few coins he possessed. The few morsels that are around go mostly to him. I try to force one of my hands to grip the cup flat on the table, and the other hand to carefully lift the kettle up to pour slowly in his cup. The first splash of liquid shoots steam into my face and I blink a few times trying to clear my vision.  
  
Too late.  
  
"Cursed Hafling!" My master leaps up in rage, as he wipes frantically at his now wet looking pants.  
  
Stumbling backward, I try and move out of the way as fast as possible. I trip clumsily over the tattered folds of my skirts and ended up flat on my back with my Master standing over me. The feel of his warm, wet, drops of saliva hit my face and I know I should be moving my arms to cover my face for protection but once again I am paralyzed with fear.  
  
"I don't even think you're worth the coins I parted with! Why did I pick you up you worthless thing?!"  
  
I try and shut my mind down as I feel his booted foot kick me in my side. I briefly wonder with deranged amusement what a bruise on top of a bruise looks like. But then I am jerked out of my stupor by the feeling of scalding hot liquid splashing my legs. I scream and stare up in shock realizing my Master has dumped the entire contents of the kettle over my legs. My eyes silently plead with him to stop as he bends down and takes hold of my hair.  
  
"Worthless," I hear him mutter, "Utterly worthless. Not worth even trading a crippled old horse for."  
  
I curl myself up into as tight a protective ball as I can manage, feeling the tears leak out of the corner of my eyes at the burning sensation on my legs, and the newly burning sensations of being dragged across the small room by my hair. I then hear the familiar creaking sound of the cellar and know it is to be another night of blackness. He then lets go of my hair and gives me another booted kick shoving me towards the cellar entrance.  
  
"Get in there! Go on with you!"  
  
I somehow manage to maneuver myself into the small dank little hole and I fall a few feet to the dirt ground below. Dust rises in a dim cloud around me only visible slightly through the thin filter of light coming from the area that is not blocked by my Master's bulky frame. I want to plead with him not to make me stay down here again. Where it smells like a pigs sty and feels like oozing piles of slime. Where the air is so hard to breathe I feel like my head is immersed in some thin stream of murky water. But I know my plea would never be heard and I'm not sure I even remember how to form those words anymore. It has been so long since I have spoken. It is no matter, for now I watch as my master moves to close the door to the cellar and once again I am swallowed by the night. 


	2. Into the Past

When I awake I briefly wonder if I'm dead. I feel nothing and I know somewhere dimly in the back of my mind I should be feeling pain but all I feel is numbness. I breathe in musty air and let out a weak cough. I desperately need water but I know from the past experience of being down in this small space that there is none, only some damp earth that is impossible to drain any liquid from. I move up slowly, testing my limbs for any broken bones. I wince as pain shoots through my ankle which is now quite possibly broken. I sometimes feel as if I shall go mad down here with nothing but darkness so deep that when you wave you hand in front of your eyes you have suddenly become blind. I breathe in and out slowly to test other functions. My skin stretched impossibly so, over my ribs is tender to the touch, feeling almost like the raw meat my Master occasionally brings home on a good day. My legs are my primary concern and I cautiously feel my way down my small body to them. I bite my lip to keep from screaming in pain, afraid that my Master will hear me and further punish me for making too much of a ruckus. I worry that I will have permanent damage but although the agony is great I seem to be able to move my legs.  
  
I often think I would be better off where I was before. In the cages. That was the last time I had seen my kind. I had been much younger then, though I cannot recall my exact age. I was definitely a child. All around me were exotic creatures but the one next to me was the only one I recognized as my own. He was old with lines creasing his face, his curly hair gray, and hanging down his face in dirty clumps. And I felt warmth towards him because somehow I knew he was there, protecting me.  
  
"Look no one in the eye child, and try to look as invisible as possible." His voice was harsh and his eyes looked stern but I knew he worried for my safety. There was a familiarity to him. Somehow he was someone I knew but it was so long ago and the fear is so great that the wisp of that memory is gone. I did as he said though, that much I can remember. I shrank into the corner of the cage trying to look undesirable. But I was the youngest of my kind there and therefore had the longest amount of work left in me. Soon over the shouting protests of my companion I was yanked to my feet and dragged out of the cage. I can still remember his frantic shouts fading fast behind me.  
  
"Do not pick the child! She is disease ridden! She is weak and worthless! I could do much better!" but his voice slowly disappeared and I found myself shoved onto some sort of wooden stage. Below me seemed to be hundreds of different sized men. Yes, something told me those were humans though how I came by this knowledge I am unsure. What is a human? I just know I am not one even if I don't know exactly what manner of creature I am. In front of me was one of the men who had dragged me from my imprisonment. He was shouting out unfamiliar words but I did understand the intent. He meant to sell me. Like an animal or some sort of goods at a market square. Even being such a young child I felt humiliation sweep over me as I realized what had been happening. I wanted to protest but I felt a sharp warning jab of the stick in my side when I opened my mouth. I fell silent and watched in disbelief as the crowd let out a loud cheer and suddenly I was once again dragged in the direction of some steps leading off stage. There I stared up at my Master for the first time. He was tall. So terribly tall I felt I had been thrown into a world of giants, or that as some cruel joke, I had been shrunken down to the size of an insect in a normal sized world. I swallowed and opened my mouth to speak my final words.  
  
"Where's my mama?" I began crying then and my Master glared down at me in disgust. He looked at the man who had dragged me off the stage and they seemed to be conversing together while I cried. Finally he bent down to my level and spoke.  
  
"Listen Hafling, I don't want to hear you speak ever again. I don't want to even have to tolerate the sound of your worthless voice. From now on I am your Master and you are mine. I own you. You will do whatever is asked of you or you will regret that your worthless self was ever born into this world."  
  
I continued to cry and received my first punishment. A sharp back hand across the face and a bloody lip. When he took me home he told me to fix his supper. I didn't know how to cook and when I burnt his meal I was rewarded with another vicious slap.  
  
"I told you not to speak to me! What did I say?!" He waved his hand in front of my face and I shrank away from it trying to become what the elder man had said to do. Become invisible. "You will learn to cook."  
  
And I did. I learned very quickly to prevent another bruise or broken bone. I secretly think he loves the moments when I mess up and he gets to deal out his punishments. But I do not make it easy for him.  
  
I soon settled into my new way of life like I had never left an old life behind. I do chores for most of my day and the small amount of time I do have for myself I daydream about my old life, and then daydream about my possible old life. Until that fades into dreaming of a life I possibly want. Some day I fear I will completely forget the idea that there was someone else out there like me. After all, it might have been some illusion my mind conjured up to make me feel like I'm not so very alone in this world. Not such a freak as my Master calls me.  
  
The darkness seems crushing now, stealing my very breath in it's black claws, making me want to close my eyes and wish the world away. There has to be something else out there, something outside this life of endless chores and painful dark nights. Something outside closed fists and swollen flesh. But it is no matter now, as sleep takes hold of my mind and drags me down into its deep darkness. 


End file.
